


it was a little dark so he held a makeshift torch

by Onediewreckshun



Category: Drarry - Fandom, Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety, Demons, F/M, Ghosts, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmare Disorder, harry potter characters - Freeform, or so he thinks?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:50:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7163753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onediewreckshun/pseuds/Onediewreckshun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a mirror in draco's bedroom. he worries that, while he sleeps, his reflection sits up and watches him. </p><p>or</p><p>Draco suffers from a condition known as nightmare disorder. Or— as far as he knows, he does. Although his doctor says his disorder is no huge deal, Draco still wonders why he wakes with cuts around his eyes and a numbness around his throat every morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it was a little dark so he held a makeshift torch

Draco was raised as a single child, in a house of a shrinking woman and glasses of wine. His mother, tiny in all ways. Her voice, caught in the shrinking air of the gasps of her only child, shrinking moments of happiness as the ones who had left never returned. Until, her whole presence had been consumed into tiny bits and pieces of words and breaths. Until, she could not speak. As her blood shot irises and blood shot wine caught up to her bloodstream and left her with enough emotion showing on the outside as on the inside. She shrank and shrank until Draco grew into a curious 5 year old.

"But mum, it is almost bed time! You must be a bit hungry." Draco paused.  
"You haven't ate all day."

She stared.

"Won't you read me a bedtime tale?"

And her lips, chipped and stained red, nearly opened; Draco swore he almost saw them twitch. But it was all over before Draco could blink twice.

 

-

 

Draco told his mother not to go on dates; that the only thing they'll ever need was each other (and maybe a dog, since Draco always loved them, pugs preferably).  
But she went on them anyway.

The bad thing happened twice.  
The first time it happened, Draco's mother met her date online. The man was brunette, bearded, and as tall as Draco could ever imagine. He remembers way the man would stare at him, intent and as cold as the air in the house during winter. Maybe it was just because he'd seen Draco take the last cookie from the jar, or when Draco tracked up the tile in the kitchen after he came inside from playing in the snow.

Draco didn't know for sure. All he knew was the noise of his mother's screams that night.  
At 1 in the morning, Draco was curious and he was 6. He jumped down from his bed and scurried to his mother's bedroom.  
Draco tried once. The door was locked.

"Hello?" Only whimpers answered him.

"Mummy, are you alright! Mummy!" He knocked thrice, and then everything was silent. Draco remembered standing, waiting outside of the door for a long time. Maybe five minutes, until it finally creaked open to reveal the man, who's pants weren't tugged on fully and who had no shirt on his back.

"M-may I please see my mother. I'm worried about her. Please?"

The man nodded slowly and walked straight out of the house, leaving a gray trail of cigar smoke.

Draco rushed into his mother's bedroom and to the side of her bed.  
"Mummy, are you alright?"  
He witnessed her cloudy state and sharp breathing, a large rip down the center of her beach skirt.  
The day they spent at the beach.  
They day they were supposed to have fun.  
Draco told his mom not to go on dates anymore and that the only thing they needed were each other.

  
The bad thing happened again when Draco was older—but not old enough.

10 years, and a bit of a wimp.  
The new guy and his mom were in her bedroom, and yet again, the door was locked.

Now, Draco didn't understand what rape was at this age— he barely understood sex, but he surely understood the violent screams that belonged to his own mother. He pounded on the door until his usually pale palms were rushing red and he was out of breath. By then, the man opened the door and was heading for  
the exit of the house. Draco made a decision and he made it quick. All trembling fingertips and swollen palms, he kicked the man in his crotch, sending him to his knees. Adrenaline pumping, blood pressure sky high, Draco sprinted into the kitchen and grabbed the shiniest object lying on the closest countertop.

The knife.

He hesitated. Or maybe he didn't. But either way in a matter of nanoseconds he was back at the side of the man.  
He was still on the floor.

"You hurt my mother."

Draco placed a foot onto the man's belly to keep him planted on the floor. Draco tightened his clutch on the knife.  
  
The man looked up at Draco first with wild confusion, and then wild horror.  
"Kid- don't do th-"  
"Shut up! You deserve to die!"  
With a blink of an eye and a flick of a wrist, the blade dug deep into the stomach flesh of the man, splattering pasty red blood onto Draco.

He licked the red substance that reminded him too much of his mother off of his face.

 

-

 

"Your medication, dear, have you forgotten?"

Alana Love gazed softly into her patient's eyes.

But as always, his mind was elsewhere.

Draco Malfoy sat staring at the pale hospital wall, his hands shaking as they usually did.

"I haven't forgotten. I've just— I realized they have no use. Not for me, anyway."

Love bit the inside of her cheek, trying, with most difficulty, to remain pleasant. For the sake of her job, yes, her job.

"Obviously... there will be no plain results until you've kept up with your schedule, Draco. It hasn't nearly been a full month since you've started taking it. Will you... will you just try?"

Her hand had reached Draco's forearm, which had laid upon his thigh. She stared at him desperately, hoping to receive any kind of agreement.

Draco's gaze finally reached hers. His jaw locked, a somber look coming upon his countenance.

"One more week. Just one, and if that's not enough, I'm quitting. I've have enough— enough of the midnight vomiting, the loss of appetite, the dizziness... enough of it all. I'd rather deal with the dreams."

Love's gaze lowered and her expression changed into deep sorrow, her hand tightening on Draco's arm.

"It gets worse before it will ever get better, I'm afraid. You're a strong, young man, and I know you can get through these symptoms. As long as you give the medication long enough, the end result will be worth plenty. I'm sure of it."

With these words, Love handed Draco the refilled medication bottle, the black tablets filled generously to the rim. She led him out off the room with a swift "Goodbye" and quickly prepared for her next patient.

 

-

 

Draco bowed his head against the strong force of the wind. As he neared his house, he noticed a different car in the driveway. It was gray and old, with specks of mud around the bottom. He wondered what kind of surprised he'd walk into once he stepped inside.

His parents had been sitting in the living room on one couch, and on the other, an unfamiliar teenager.

It was a girl, her face weary and her nose ending in a point. She was dressed in a brown sweater with a black skirt. Her hair was thick and wavy and long, a few inches away from reaching her waist. The odd part was that it was all gray.

"Ah. Home so late again, Draco."

The voice of his stepfather was as cruel as usual, his eyes just as harsh.

"We do have a guest, as you might have already known if not for your ignorance of cell phone use. Never mind that, however. Introduce yourself to our new personal chef, Janie."

Draco gritted his teeth and looked entirely at Janie before stepping towards her and shaking her hand.

"Draco Malfoy. What a pleasure. You must be better than our former chef... couldn't even juice an orange, could she?" He grinned bitterly, releasing her pale hand.

Draco swiftly slipped out of the room once the conversation between Janie and his parents had picked up after he'd rudely interrupted.

He walked up the stairs to his room, and pulled his phone out which, as he expected, showed 7 missed called from 'Lucius Malfoy.'

So what, he'd turned his phone off and took a two hour walk after getting his medication. He needed time to think and time to merely breathe— his life had fallen to shambles after he murdered his mother's last boyfriend. He began to relive these moments, the times his mother was brutally raped by several men, in which he hoped Lucius was not one of them. To distract himself, he took three pills.

For a while, Draco laid uncomfortably in his own bed, the ceiling turning as the effects of the dark pills set in. He laid, staring into the mirror the size of his entire wall, waiting for the ghost of his innocence to haunt him. The room spun and spun... a familiar gray fog spewing from all four corners and soon, with ease, his eyes were closed.

  
_It was impossible to gather what was safe and what was not._

_  
Draco's senses seemed disorientated, like he could simply taste what he heard and see what he spoke. His breathing quickened and the room around him seemed to be disappearing into thin air, or that least that's what Draco thought. There is a humming in the distance, or right in fucking front of him, Draco honestly had no idea at this point._

_As he tried to yell, and a voice in the distance mimicked him, as if he was far away from the place he laid._

_The room was gone, and rather a hole of darkness with one shining mirror and a bed._

_Draco felt himself floating away from his bed, unwillingly. He fought and kicked but continued to float at a steady pace until he turned around in midair, and was greeted with himself. He saw himself sleeping in bed, as if nothing was going on above him. There he was, watching himself. Draco cried and clawed at the air, trying and failing to get back inside his body._

_He looked into the mirror and flinched._

_A face, mercilessly mutilated and torn resided on the surface, yet had no actual being to have been reflected off of. The face twitched uncontrollably, shouting words Draco had never known and ripping violently at Draco's face, with animal like claws that had suddenly appeared._

_"You're going to die soon." The person howled, the voice resembling that of a demon's. It was low and high at different times, yet also sounded as if a crowd of people were all speaking the same thing at one time._

_Draco sobbed, his weightless body spazzing uncontrollably. The person tore viciously at him, giving a pain Draco had never experienced like before. He couldn't speak, he couldn't comprehend, he could barely think with the claws breaking into his flesh like fire._

_"I am coming."_

Draco woke with a start and vomited all over himself.

His eyes stung with fiery tears, and his face felt sore all over.

_No. No._

He looked into the mirror wall, horrified at his appearance.

Tears had not been dripping down his face, it had been blood. The thick blood from the slits across his forehead and cheeks.

Draco gingerly pulled his shirt over his head and onto the floor, the smell of his sick making him want to puke even more.

 _Enough, enough,_ he thought over and over again. _I'll call him. Yes, yes. No. He won't believe me. But who would, really? It's nearly two in the morning._

Draco sat shirtless on his bed, the sheets a pink color from his blood and sweat (although tears were fair game as well). His face throbbed, stinging with the pain of hundreds of knives every time he moved any muscle in his face.

He made his decision without thinking.

Draco grabbed his phone from the bedside table and dialed the only phone number he'd ever memorized.

It rung four times. Draco nearly ended the call on the third ring, but the blood droplets on his cell phone told him to do otherwise.

And that was it. Four rings.

"Hullo?"

The voice was obviously groggy and rough at the edges. He must have been sleeping.

No way? Sleeping at two in the morning? It couldn't have been so.

"Harry." Draco paused as the throbbing in his face felt worse now more than ever. "It happened...again."

Harry was silent for a while. Draco almost decided Harry had fell back to sleep before Harry finally said, "W-What? What did? Are you okay?"

Draco accidentally let out a quiet sob after these words, which, he really didn't know the answer to.

"I don't... I... Harry, I don't know. I don't know anything anymore, I don't know what to do." Draco nearly punched himself at how weak and vulnerable he sounded.

"I— I'll be over in ten." And Harry Potter hung up.

Draco sat and waited, motionless as he held a damp rag over his cuts.

 

-

 

Harry arrived fifteen minutes later.

Draco had been waiting anxiously by the front door, making sure to get no blood on the carpet below (Lucius would have made a huge deal). He would open the door before Harry'd have the chance to knock or ring the bell, that way his parents weren't awoken.

"Draco? Your face—"

Harry was interrupted as Draco grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, softly closing the door.

Draco led him upstairs and into his room, the rag soaked with more blood than water.

He hated the way Harry gazed around the room, as if it'd been an ancient masterpiece in an art museum. He then realized that Harry had never really been into Draco's house or—mansion, he should say.  
He sat on his rumpled bed and so Harry did the same.

"I don't—Er, mean to disturb you so late, or, early. But I just... Fuck. I can't do this. I can't take it!" Draco padded at his face with the rag. "The medication isn't working, the dreams won't stop, I keep vomiting. It's so unfortunate, all of it." His last words ended with defeat and subtle pain, the desperation clear in his voice.  
"I just dreamt that a man or demon or—something scratched my face off while screaming, 'You're going to die,' and, 'I'm coming,' or something of that sort."

"The scratches. How did—"

Draco interrupted Harry once again.  
"I must have did it... in my sleep. The only explanation, right?"

Harry shook his head.  
"Draco, that isn't the only possibility."

Draco squinted, and received a flash of pain. "What? What else, then?"

Harry licked his dry lips. "It may be the man in your dreams. He may be... real."

Draco stood, worry and rage mixed with the blood on his face.  
"Real!? In what way?"

Harry pushed his glasses further onto his nose.

"The man could be an actual spirit trying to contact you through your dreams."

**Author's Note:**

> Oh gosh. Well guys— please let me know if you like it!!! I'll only continue if you all tell me to. Comment, Like, do whatever :-)


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